


The importance of caf in the morning

by wh4t4sh4me



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Dathomir, Drug Abuse, F/M, Hurt, Old Wounds, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, redemption arc, the ship is still very low-key but thats gonna change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wh4t4sh4me/pseuds/wh4t4sh4me
Summary: “I know you...” Cal said in disbelief.Malicos frowned. A great deal of emotions flickered over his features. Surprise. Confusion. Wrath. And at last: Something that could be described as reluctant recognition.---Malicos travels with the crew of the Mantis to save the Holocron. Conflict ensues as nobody is happy to have him there.- Cere has to admit that some of her demons are still very much present. Merrin has some open taps anyway and the story begins to unfold into a direction no one could have predicted.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No beta. We correct our grammar mistakes like real men: one by one after uploading and cringing at them.

_Dodge._

_Parry._

Cal could feel Malicos’ presence in the force roar around him, amplified by Kujet’s tomb. He rolled away under a lightsabre the fallen Jedi flung with deadly precision at his chest and parried it a second time as it returned back to its wielder. The fraction of a moment later Malicos had closed the distance between them already, eyes fixed on Cal while taking a swing that seemed to get even faster while getting closer to the young man’s face.

_Dodge._

There was no time to breathe in this fight, no time to think just skin-searing wrath that made Cal’s lips crack and his throat dry out, while the darkness and red heat of the planet swirled around them.

BD-1 gave a defiant beep from his back and Cal felt relief that his mechanical friend was there, reminding him to keep focused.

Deep-down he noticed Dathomir’s impact on him; the unusual strong wish to meet Malicos’ mockery and arrogant but strong attacks with equal force, shouting at him that he wasn’t the only one to have suffered after the Fall.

His nostrils flared and Malicos noticed, licking his lips and grinning before returning to an opening stance, Niman low guard this time, both sabres extended to each side of his body.

The diplomat’s form.

Perverted somehow.

Whirled up dust began to settle between them again. There was silence for a short moment.

Cal moved as soon as he saw Malicos move.

They clashed in a whirlwind of red and blue, exchanging a number of quick blows before separating again to catch their breath.

The thing that terrified him was how he could sense the force around them screaming like Kujet’s last resting place was an open wound in its collective mind, one that thousands of years had not been able to close. Or perhaps he just heard an echo of all the Zeffo that had dared to oppose their mad leader and met a gruesome death.

The place probed and tucked on his mind like a thousand rusty needles.

And Malicos was in the middle of it all: a catalyst for the darkness. He absorbed it, let it flow through him and used it to push back Cal strike after powerful strike.

Cal disabled his lightsabre for a millisecond and slid beneath the incoming launch attack, before activating it again, aiming at the legs of the other man above him. He missed.

Malicos made a somersault mid-air and just barely managed to dodge Cal’s backward trust as the young man ignited the second half of his sabre.

However, the gruesome trophies on the fallen Jedi’s belt dropped to the ground, cut off.

Both turned, weapons meeting forcefully.

Caught in the bind, Cal noticed that the ridicule had disappeared from Malicos eyes.

“You surprise me, welp.” he growled.

 _You’re self-consumed, that is all._ Cal only thought it, baring his teeth as Malicos increased the pressure behind the bind.

His own lightsabre was close to touching his shoulder already, scorching at the cloth of his poncho.

It smelled like burning textile and leather and Malicos sour sweat as he looked into his opponents blue eyes. They seemed to burn into him.

Cal realised that he was no match for the older man in physical strength as the angle became more and more disadvantageous for him. When Malicos moved one of his lightsabres in the direction of Cal’s neck, without breaking from the bind, the young man caught his fist.

He groaned as his boots were pushed backwards through the dust.

In the process, his thumb accidently brushed over the cold metal of Malicos sabre and suddenly the young man could feel the air vibrate around them.

Faint voices.

A blue shimmer.

The jedi temple.

Coruscant.

“ _Taron.”_

_Cal looked up to his new master crossing his arms and felt immediately caught._

_But it wasn’t him Jaro Tapal looked at with a raised eyebrow but the tall man kneeling beside his young padawan._

_He wore light-coloured jedi garments and his short hair had the colour of durasteel. A knight – or maybe even a master. Older. Experienced._

_Nonetheless he grinned at Jaro somewhat nonchalantly._

“ _I was just giving young Cal here some advice.”_

“ _That I can see.” Jaro looked at the two lightsabers in Cal’s hands. One was Cal’s own, made of simple alloy metal, the other chrome-plated and much bigger and heavier._

“ _I asked him why he has two… I’m sorry master. I was curious.”_

“ _Tell your master what you just learned.” The jedi whispered in a fatherly voice, blue eyes twinkling._

_Cal looked at his feet. He was sure that he angered Jaro. Nevertheless he mumbled half proud, half embarrassed: “Two are better than one.”_

_The jedi nodded and smiled. “That is absolutely correct.” He took his lightsaber back and clipped it to his belt again._

_Cal looked up into his master’s unreadable face only to see the corner of his mouth twitch._

“ _While that might be true,” he said, “some say the superior form is to wield them conjunctly. As a saberstaff. Not that you would know, Taron.”_

_The light chuckle of the other jedi_

…melted into the past.

The stench of ozone was back and the cracking noises of the blades in their hands. As well as Malicos distorted face right in front of him.

“I know you...” Cal said in disbelief.

Malicos frowned. A great deal of emotions flickered over his features. Surprise. Confusion. Wrath. And at last: Something that could be described as reluctant recognition.

The roaring darkness around them halted for a second, shrunk back to the corners of the chamber like a predator laying in wait.

Malicos undid the bind, pushing Cal backwards.

Cal used the force to balance himself out, coming to a halt near the end of the platform.

“You were the general of the 609th battalion.” He called out to his opponent, straightening himself. BD-1 squealed in surprise on his back.

Leaving trails of molten metal, Malicos dragged the tips of his lightsabers through the floor in front of him. He was watching Cal warily.

Upon hearing the padawans words, he stilled for a second before throwing his head back, roaring with laughter.

The sound echoed through the giant room.

“Nice try.” Malicos called back, seeming genuinly amused “I see what you're doing.” He proceeded to melt the floor in front of him with almost playful swings of his weapons as his smile turned cruel. “But I don't see how this is helping you.”

“You were one of the most-trusted generals of the Jedi.” Cal said, merely repeating his new learnings that had been buried in his own memories but were still present in Malicos weapon. “You… gave me your lightsaber.” _You were a jedi in the light._

Malicos uttered something between a cough and a laugh, clearly irritated by Cal's change of behaviour. “Is that supposed to make a difference?” The initial surprise at Cal’s reveal evidently had not lasted long as the padawan could feel the dark pool back around his opponent like poisonous water.

Cal looked at him, feeling his own negative emotions seep away. He lowered his weapon, feeling deep sadness at what this fight could only end in. The jedi master from the force echo was long lost to the past and the cruel reality of the Clone Wars and the Empire. And only one of them would leave here alive.

Malicos noticed the shift in the young man, hatred flicking across his face. When he spoke, his voice was even deeper; sounding like grinding stone. His force presence flared like the scorching air outside.

“Do. Not. _Dare_ to pity me, youngling. I will _cut_ you in half.”

Cal licked his dry lips again, feeling the exhaustion from the fight in his bones.

_Master, help me._

The force was tugging on his shoulder, a cool caress in the madness surrounding him. It gently pointed him into a direction, showing him one of many possible endings to the fight.

He did not like it. But he had learnt to trust.

Cal went into the Soresu opening stance, inviting an attack.

“Pitying you would mean that I have doubt on what needs to be done.” he said calmly.

Malicos presence exploded with red fury as he let out a scream. He leaped up in the air, both sabers behind his back ready to come down on Cal, to crush him and grind him into the dust. Cal was taken back at the distance the man covered in a single jump, feeling the strong ripples in the force but did not let down his guard.

He met Malicos upon landing. He reached out and the force itself guided his body, letting him step out of the reach of the sabers again by a mere inch. As Malicos rose from the impact of his jump, Cal took a full turn, manoeuvring past his opponent’s defense.

He brought his weapon down on the older man's right arm as he was still struggling for balance.

The blade seared through flesh and bone like a knife through butter.

The cut off hand fell to the floor.

Malicos howled in pain, dropping to his knees.

For a second, Cal was too astonished from his accomplishment and stood there, breathing heavily, his saber tip searing the ground from the overhead blow.

“What are you waiting for?” A voice reached his ear. He turned his head to see Merrin making herself known from the boulder next to the platform.

He looked back down on Malicos who clutched his severed arm to his chest, curled together and groaning.

He seemed unable to move.

The smell of burnt flesh and bone marrow rose sickly to Cal’s nose.

“It’s over.” He did not know whether he said it towards Merrin or Malicos. Probably both.

He kicked the lightsaber Malicos dropped a few meters away but did not dare to touch the other. The cut off hand was still cramped around it.

Merrin jumped down from her boulder, striding towards them. “No mercy for that wretched liar.”

Malicos eyes opened, staring up to Cal. There was still hate in them but as he looked, he began to frown like he could not believe what was in front of him.

“What have you done?!” he croaked. His disbelief seemed to exceed the mere fact that Cal managed to harm him. He sounded almost panicky.

Green swirled around Merrin’s fingers as she walked, her deadly intent palpable in the air. Only now did Malicos seem to notice her approaching.

“He’s unarmed, we can’t…” Cal did not get to finish that sentence.

The jedi master had turned himself on the ground, drew one knee under his body and had used his momentum to kick up with the other leg.

The heel of his boot hit Cal in the chest and sent him flying backwards.

Merrin cursed and used her magic to stop his flight before he could fall over the edge. Meanwhile Malicos grabbed his cut-off hand and scrambled to his feet.

“You _won’t_!” Merrin screamed. Green energy shot after the fleeing man and lifted him momentarily up but he wound himself out of it like a weasel, stumbled after hitting the ground again but was able to leave Merrin’s range eventually.

Cal groaned, carefully touching his ribcage to see if everything was in place. He looked after Malicos as he hurried towards the entrance of the tomb and disappeared into the flaring hot air outside.

“Are you hurt?” Merrin raised her eyebrow at him, showing no inclination to help him.

He wouldn’t have expected it either.

“No.”

“Good, get what you came for, Jedi. I need to find that bastard.” She turned around and vanished into green mist again.

.

..

…

_He hurried through the red dust, eyes flicking forth and back. The little witch would be on his heels in a matter of seconds._

_Frustration and panic filled him when he realised that he couldn’t simply tap into the force to locate her._

_Something was different._

_It yanked away from his reach and every time he tried to pull on it, he could only see the boy standing above him. The welp had been calm and open, a sunny meadow beaming through the force. – Everything a jedi was supposed to be while fighting._

…

_He told himself that it was only momentarily, a passing condition. He needed to calm himself. After all, defeat had not been an option in this fight. Was never an option. And still he…_

_His grip on the cut-off limb tightened._

_._

_The pain made him delirious but still he stumbled on, hurrying from shadow to shadow, always expecting to be attacked._

_._

_Taron had always been somewhat arrogant._

_It had been pointed out as his greatest flaw by his master and peers alike. As a master himself, he learnt to live with it, transformed it into something to aid him in difficult situations – when a little boldness and confidence could help to turn the tides of a battle._

_It was not helping him now._

_Hiding and running like this made him recoil from himself._

_His wounded dignity howled out in pain and anger at the humiliation of being beaten by a boy that had refused to listen to him._

…

_.._

_._

_He'd kill him._

_Make him pay._

_While his mind was calling for revenge and blood, his feet seemed to know where to go._

_Unsteady like a blind man, he followed where they carried him._

_The feeling was altogether new and familiar, a faint voice behind the rage, self-pity and confusion inside his head. He steered into a different direction as an attempt but found panic rising within him as the whisper grew fainter instantly._

_So he dragged himself onward, mumbling and falling to the ground a few times but with a determination you only found in madmen._

_-_

Greez frowned looking up from his reading. A control lamp blinked on the dashboard of the Mantis. One, he was sure, had not been acting up previously.

“You fiddled with the loading ramp?” He called out to Cere. The woman was sitting on one of the padded benches in the living area. She had been meditating for most of the time since they landed on Dathomir and opened one eye to look at him.

“Why would I?”

“Just making sure.” Greez hopped down from the pilot chair and mentally prepared himself to leave the safe enclosure of his ship. Stepping out into the strong wind which swiped across the barren lands, he found the small ramp slightly open.

The gap was too small for anyone to get through but it still left him feeling uneasy.

He shook his head while blinking up into the unforgiving red sun. “I really hate this darn planet.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back with this. I had four days of vacation and did rarely anything else beside writing and editing this text. I hope you enjoy the following three chapters.

Cal was more than relieved upon seeing the silver hull of the Mantis appear in his view.

Though BD-1 was dutiful as always in providing the padawan with stimpacks, the fight against Malicos had sucked every last bit of strength out of his bones; a bunch of bane back spiders had almost finished him minutes ago.

The encounter with the nasty but mostly annoying arachnids had left him cautious. Even if “cautious” in his current state translated more to jumpy and oversensitive to any sound.

Cal closed his stinging eyes for a brief second, leaning into the shadow of a tall boulder. Red flashes appeared in the dark behind his lids. They were remnants of the red sabers, burned into his retina and if he concentrated on them for too long, he could still make out two hateful pale eyes behind them.

He struggled on.

His limps felt like lead and he assured himself every few seconds that the astrium was still safely tucked away behind his belt.

There was the still very real thread of Malicos having escaped Merrin’s wrath. The thought of him made the back of Cal’s mind tingle and he wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion or the force foreshadowing a danger to him.

Even with one arm, Malicos was still a menace and most likely out for revenge.

 _If_ Merrin was not able to find him in his weakened state.

If she did, she would kill him. In a horrible and possibly very unsightly way. – Either way, it would not be of his concern. It couldn't be.

Not because he didn’t care, but because he couldn’t be distracted from their quest. It irked him, having to constantly remind himself that being outlawed and hunted by the empire meant they were dangerous themselves and prolonged stays in one place were a risk for the people around them.

It made him sad on Zeffo. It angered him on Kashyyyk.

“Dark times indeed.” Cal murmured, agreeing with Malicos even if for entirely different reasons.

He arrived at the Mantis to find the nightsister leaned against the exterior. Quiet relief and even happiness washed over her at seeing her unharmed.

As she saw him approach, she threw a cylindrical object into the dust in front of his feet.

He stopped.

“So it’s over.” he said. He picked up Malicos’ second weapon, weighting it in his hand. Its twin already hung on the back of his belt. After he had retrieved the astrium, he had seen it on the ground.

The decision to take it with him had been an easy one. - It was too dangerous to be left lying around.

“I found him close to the village trying to tend to his arm… But my brothers had discovered him before me.” Merrin’s face hardened. “They don’t tolerate weakness. He had been obviously defeated.”

“…He’s dead?”

“Well, ten of them attacked him together. And others were coming. He cut down three before an arrow hit him and he lost his weapon. They pushed him to the ground near a cliff and he fell as he was trying to get away again.” She pursed her lips, obviously dissatisfied with the outcome of her hunt. “No one has re-emerged from that canyon ever…Between that, his injuries and the fact that you have his weapons... He has no future on Dathomir. He won’t hurt anybody anymore.”

Cal nodded, trying not to picture the fate that had befallen the former jedi master. The tingling was back, but he tried to ignore it. “I’m… very thankful for your help. I couldn’t have beaten him without you.”

It seemed odd for a formidable warrior like Malicos to just fall to his death but Merrin would have her reasons for not climbing down the cliff to confirm it. Dathomir’s surface was a hellish place already, he didn’t want to imagine what lurked at the bottom of its deep chasms and rafts. His encounter with Gorgara had been more than enough.

She nodded in acknowledgment and took a step into his direction, her expression changing from grim to intrigued. “Did you find the artefact?”

Cal nodded enthusiastically and presented the small obsidian sphere to her.

“This will help to rebuild the jedi, yes?” Her pale fingers slid over the smooth surface and Cal placed it in her hands entirely.

“That’s…my hope. It could be the key to a next generation of jedi.” he said.

Merrin nodded, looking at the astrium. “…I’m happy for you.” She gave it back to him and closed his hands around it firmly, sighing quietly, almost unnoticeable. Cal noticed the grace in the small gesture and the coolness of her fingers. He wasn’t sure why that seemed important to him.

“But there is no hope for my people that I could dig out somewhere.” The corner of her mouth twitched upward in a sad half-smile as her hands left his and she turned away. “I wish you well, Cal Kestis.”

Something tugged at his insides, seeing her walk back to the empty ruins that she called home and he opened his mouth.

It seemed right to offer her the same advice that sent him on his journey – more or less. That gave him a family again. The universe indeed had a strange way of dragging you back into its never stopping gears.

And in her eyes he could see how grateful she was for the choice he presented her with.

**.**

_The metal was cool against his back._

_It had been a long time since he had been close to such a vast amount of titanium._

_Years?_

_Years._

_Good stuff, this titanium. A change from the rocks and gravel and poisonous plants of Dathomir._

_He couldn’t move, nausea hit every time. But he didn’t need to. As long as the ship remained so wonderfully cold against his burning skin, he would stay here._

_They had caught him off guard. Surrounded him like scavengers. His warning words and threats had fallen on deaf ears as if they could somehow feel that he was far weaker._

_He could not sense the ones coming at his back until the first mace hit him and only years of honing his reflexes had saved his spine from being shattered. The laser arrow hitting his front he was not able avoid._

_He couldn’t sense any of them; It felt like he had gone suddenly deaf and blind at the same time._

_Confidence had always been his mainspring in combat, but now he was deeply afraid and while he managed to cut down one in front of him, a kick to the back of his knee send him to the ground._

_He had rolled himself away and suddenly, there had not been anything to roll on anymore._

_There was another gash in his side from the fall, probably still bleeding._

_And his left shoulder had been pulled from the socket when he tried to catch himself and ultimately dropped on a small ledge, three to four meters beneath the actual cliff and thankfully out of their sight._

_The traitorous bastards had been standing above him. He had heard the sand shift beneath their feet and their bellowed commands, while he desperately tried to just breathe through his gritted teeth. They scattered after a while._

_Looking into the red sky, he remembered thinking that if he only got up there, he would find what was missing again. It was much more than a cut-off hand. Everything around him felt cold and dead when he reached for it._

_._

_.._

…

_The faint feeling came back with a gush of hot air brushing over his face._

_._

_He had no name for it._ _A hope, like a child tucking at his hand; Not impatient, not loud but persistent._

_An image occupied his mind and he couldn’t tell if it was delirium, his own memory or something else entirely._

_Maybe pure survival instinct._

A youngling trying to hide his excitement under a stern face, his tiny hand closed around the grown-up’s index and middle finger and guiding them to a sprouting plant.

_He followed._

_There was a distorted memory of balancing up a foot width rim without using his arms in his head, the yawning canyon right in front of him._

_._

_The rest was a bid of a blur._

_._

_The metal started to hum right next to his ear as the engine of the Mantis started up._

_It was a wonderful sound._

_The crates around him shook slightly and he smiled at the ceiling as the rumbling got louder and the ship gracefully escaped the burning atmosphere of Dathomir to glide into the black emptiness surrounding the planet. The sounds and movements of the Mantis activated a long-buried muscle memory in his body, indicating departure to the lower functions of his brain while darkness closed in around him._

_He didn’t hear the pressure door of the cargo load sliding open._

_Cere Junda’s sharp intake of breath upon seeing him laying between the water storage and a stack of old com links escaped his awareness as well._

_He had lost consciousness._


	3. Chapter 3

Fifteen minutes after Cere had emerged from the cargo load without the promised rations for Cal and simply had announced that they had a problem, there still had not been another person to go down there.

After she explained said problem to the rest of the now 25 percent bigger crew, Merrin had jumped up, ready to storm to the rear end of the vessel and end the fallen jedi’s life once and for all.

She got held back by the rest. A fight between a force and a magick user on board of a ship as small as the Mantis could not end well.

The matter had evolved into somewhat of a crisis session held between the terrarium and the galley.

“We just use the air lock.” Greez had crossed his four arms before his chest. “I don’t want anything else from that damn planet making itself comfortable on my ship. - No offense.” He had turned himself to Merrin for his last words.

“We… We can’t just throw an unconscious man out into space.” Cal looked incredulous at the Latero. Greez just shrugged. “Could be a trap.”

“What kind of trap requires you to be fatally wounded and out cold?” The young man sat himself up on the padded bench groaning, taking his left hand out of a tray with bacta that had been sitting on his chest. Arriving on the ship he had noticed that some of the laser burns on his knuckles and arms were deeper than he first believed them to be.

“I don’t know, kid! Maybe his dying wish was to slit your throat – I’ve seen your kind do crazier things.”

_Your kind._

It was the fear speaking out of Greez; Cal could sense it behind the uncaring attitude. Their captain had simply long lost the ability to look at something without mistrusting or detesting it.

He felt the Latero’s sentiments reflected in his own mind. The debts of Kujet’s tomb yawned at him every time he closed his eyes. He wanted Malicos very much gone as well but the force calmed him, suggesting a more level-headed approach.

Searching for help, he turned around to Cere.

She seemed unusually tense since her discovery, fingers tapping on her knees. “Well,…” she said, “as a former jedi master he is hardly defenceless. But from the looks of it, I’d say that he will not survive the next two hours if that chest wound goes untreated.”

“Well, problem solved then!” Greez threw his hands into the air.

“You can’t just _leave_ him there.” Merrin burst out. She stood a bit farer away, pacing for and back next to the door, while everyone else was sitting or leaning in the close proximity of the kitchen area. “I know this man! He is cruel and manipulative and he lied to me for years. - You need to do something about him before he wakes up! If you don’t have the stomach for it, fly back to Dathomir and the nightsisters will take care of him.”

“You are right. We can’t leave him there.” Cere said suddenly. “Give me his light saber.” She had turned to Cal.

The young man looked at her slightly alarmed. “What do you want to do?”

“Cauterize and treat his wounds. If he bleeds out before we reach a decision I would feel very incompetent and helpless. We can still decide afterwards what to do with him.” She made eye contact with everyone around the table. “Cal is right. – We may have a mission. An urgent one at that. And Malicos is… a threat. But we can’t jeopardize our morals and everything the jedi order stood for just because it is more convenient at the moment.”

Her words carried some impact. Greez shook his head but turned his eyes to the floor.

Cal stood up slowly and wincing, taking one of the lightsabers of the fallen jedi from his belt. “I’ll help you.”

He cast a side-way glance at Merrin’s twisted face and it stung to see hurt mixed into the anger written on her features. He followed Cere into the back of the ship and faintly heard Greez voice behind him addressing the night sister. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ve got my eyes on you.”

Hurrying down the ladder in the engine room, he quickly caught up to Cere who was already at the doors to the cargo load, ripping open a bacta patch.

“Have you done this before?” she asked.

“Couple of times. Not with a light saber though.”

“Works best in my opinion. It’s the cleanest tool we have.”

The cargo was little more than a storage room, fitted right next to the hyper drive of the Mantis. If the machine was running, you could feel the constant reverberations creeping through the soles of your boots up to your chest.

Entering the cramped, dimly lit space, Cal saw a pair of dark boots protruding beyond a stack of crates. He sighed. In his mind, it had been a reasonable hope to never see Taron Malicos ever again. The tomb flashed before his inner eyes once more and he knew that it would take a couple of days to find his balance again.

Rounding the obstacle, the whole man came into their view. He truly was in a bad state: Deadly pale, his hand stump cradled over an oozing gap in his chest and the other arm stretched out in an angle that looked immensely painful, if he had been conscious. Judging from the blue and green spread over his torso and face, he did take quite a tumble, like Merrin had said.

“ _How_ did he get in here? …How did he even _move_ around anymore?”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s do this.” Cere said grimly.

They moved him into a position where Cal could hold him down without injuring him further and Cere emitted the light saber. Her face turned into an unmoving mask upon seeing the fiery colour of the blade.

Cal saw the red reflecting in her eyes and for a moment he wasn’t sure what she would do next. “…Cere?” he asked cautiously after a moment.

The woman pursed her lips and shook her head, before putting one knee on the former jedi’s thighs. “Are you ready?”

Cal nodded, his grip on Malicos shoulders tightening. Cere pressed the blade down onto the wound and the man immediately reared up, groaning. Thick smoke and the awful smell of burning flesh rose from his chest.

Malicos slashed around, eyes snapping open and bulging out of their sockets and Cal had to use all of his strength to keep him down.

“ _Sith._ ” He brought out, focusing his gaze on the woman above him. Then he sagged down, eyes rolling back into his head.

Cere deactivated the saber and wiped over her mouth with the back of her hand while Cal applied the laid out bacta patch. He looked at the older woman out of the corner of his eyes while she bandaged what was left of Malicos’ right arm. She seemed to struggle with something inwardly.

“Do you know him?” he asked finally. The question had been burning in the back of his mind for some time.

Cere lowered her gaze but nodded. “I passed the trials of knighthood when he was appointed master. We were stationed in the temple together for a while.” Her tone of voice was detached, neutral. They both paused and looked down on the slack face of the man between them. Cal could feel a great deal of resentment surrounding Cere, circling her like a dark cloud, mixed with melancholia.

She noticed his inquiring presence and slowly and steadily raised a wall around her mind. Even though, she had cut herself off from the force, her ability to shield herself from unwanted attention was still exceptional.

He didn’t want to probe. He sent an apologetic thought in her direction, hoping she would somehow sense it.

“Before the fall, he would have been submitted to trial in front of the council…” she said slowly, “Being as it is now…I have no idea. I guess we can expect the same hostility from him an inquisitor would harbour.” She tossed the red saber to the side and it landed in front of the door. “And we are on board of a transport vessel. We hardly have the means to hold him for a long time.”

Cal stood up, running his hand through his hair. “But we are no inquisitors… You just said it yourself: The jedi code still has to mean something.”

While he was talking Cere had bend down again, poking at Malicos’ left shoulder before grabbing his arm. Cal watched as she carefully moved it up and down while bringing it into a 90 degree angle to the man’s body. She began to rotate it, pressing the joint back into its socket.

“He did try to kill you.” she said without looking up.

Cal turned away, apparently inspecting the contents of a cargo net strung up on the ceiling. His eyes still burning, his body numb from the fight, he felt incredibly tired. “Yes, he did.”

Frustration was rising in him. He felt dumb having to explain why he wanted to spare a man who had been trying to chop off his head the last time they had met; - especially to the woman he had come to see as a mentor and friend.

“Cal.”

He turned.

Cere had finally looked up. She must have seen or somehow sensed his inner turmoil. “We are doing the right thing. _You_ are doing the right thing. Forgive me…” She grabbed Malicos arm again. “I’m being cynical…When he wakes, he may talk for himself.”

The joint gave a chilling sound as it popped back into place, underlining her last words. Malicos stirred slightly.

“We can’t leave him in the cargo…” Cal began after a second, mustering his surroundings. His features lit up. “But there are two escape pods on board.”

Cere understood almost immediately what he was up too. “I guess it’s our best option.”

She glanced up to him, a sort of proud little smile on her face.

They both headed back to the front of the ship. “Greez will not be happy.” The padawan prophesied, climbing up the ladder to the upper level of the engine room.

He should be right.

Merrin watched from her position close to the navigation panel how the woman, Cere, and Cal Kestis spoke in a low voice before both disappeared again into the back of the ship.

She had long decided, to keep most of her sentiments on the situation to herself, to possibly device a plan of her own should it be necessary.

It would be necessary.

But she buried that thought deep, deep down in the back of her head as soon as it rose.

Years of dealing with Malicos had taught her to not even _think_ some things when a force user was present. They'd probe your mind like a bowl of stew, if you were not cautious.

So for the time being, she would just wait and observe.

The last two hours had been marked by busy activity once their course had been set. A disgruntled Greez had helped the two others preparing a temporary cell for their blind passenger.

They had removed most of the control panels from inside of one of the escape pods, leaving only the live systems intact. There was no way now to access any of its functions from within. However, it still could be launched from the Mantis by using the manual mechanics of the ship.

Merrin had watched from above how Cal had dragged Malicos out of the cargo and placed him rather unceremoniously in the seat of the escape pod.

She huffed.

Stars, distorted into light stripes were speeding past the windows. If she hadn’t been so distracted by the discovery of the fallen jedi, she would have enjoyed the view greatly.

“If anything, you’re the order of fools.” she murmured to nobody specific. “What logic is there in sparing an enemy just because he can’t slit your throat _at the moment_?”

“Quit it. I don’t like it either but apparently that loon is staying back there for now.” Greez wandered by and placed a mug with steaming hot content in front of her before heading back to his pilot chair.

“They’re wasting bacta on him.” she replied coldly.

“Since it’s not your bacta, it shouldn’t be your concern, lady.” He eyed her cautiously over his shoulder. “Now drink the caf. And don’t get used to me making it. - I’m not a service droid.”

He had asked gruffly if Merrin wanted something to drink and she had nodded, believing he meant water. Apparently not.

She eyed the dark liquid in the cup. “What is that?”

Greez turned around, bushy eyebrows shooting up his green face. “You never had caf before?”

She frowned. “No? Is that a requirement for space travel?”

He laughed. “Ha, I could begin to tolerate you! Come on, try it then, try it!” He hopped down from his chair again and came closer to watch her reaction.

Merrin made a face as she sat the cup down again. “Bitter.”

“Yeah, you get used to it.”

After a few moments, a strange buzz spread into her fingers and the back of her head. It made her feel more alert – Not an unpleasant sensation. She took another careful sip and pointed to the stripes outside the windows. “So this is hyperspace.” Her experience with traveling aboard a star ship had been limited to books and descriptions. Until now.

“Yes, pretty for an alternate dimension, is it?”

Merrin pressed her hand to the cool glass, watching the colourful lights hurry by. “It’s beautiful.”

Greez nodded. “Yeah.” He sounded melancholic. “I suppose you get used to that too.”


	4. Chapter 4

The Mantis was gliding through time and space and apart from the view outside of the windows, nothing indicated to the passengers at what enormous speed they were traveling through the outer rim.

With every minute and every system they passed, Cal could feel Dathomir’s grip on him weaken. He had used the time to mediate and clear his mind, as well as to take a shower.

Despite that, the prior three hours on route to Bogano had been tense. Everyone’s joy about finally finding the astrium had been considerably dampened by the knowledge of having a fallen jedi on board.

Ten minutes ago, while trying to scrub bane back spider gut out of his favourite poncho, he had heard some noises from the lower level.

He had informed Cere that Malicos was most likely awake again.

Standing before the ladder, Cere exhaled slowly, letting go of all of her feelings and expectations.

_Never bring baggage to a light conversation._

Something Cordoba had always said. He would have probably been intrigued by talking to Taron Malicos, having been on Dathomir for some time as well.

She couldn’t say the same about herself.

She checked the blaster at her hip one more time and smiled reassuringly at Cal who was standing beside her, weapon in hand. Approaching the former jedi master alone would have been foolish.

The other two were still passing the time in the common area – no one had opposed the idea that it should be her to talk to their prisoner first, since she knew him without doubt the longest.

The escape pods were standard issue, with a rectangular window, probably 25 inches in diameter. They were softly rattling in their fastenings as she descended into the dark corridor.

She nodded at Cal and he remained at the foot of the ladder, like they agreed.

There was greenish light shining out of the window of the second pod. Greez had short-circuited the emergency light of the inner capsule so it would remain on. – They didn’t want its inmate to have the advance of dark surroundings.

Stepping in front of it, Cere found Malicos leant back in the chair, eyes closed and apparently sleeping.

As soon as she stopped, they snapped open, focusing on her.

Knowing that he could understand her through the closed door, she cleared her throat. “Will you attack me if I try to change the bacta patch?”

He shook his head slowly. For a moment Cere wished to be able to reach into the force to read him better.

But it wasn’t possible.

And she probably wouldn’t like what she’d find there.

Tapping on the panel next to her on the wall, the capsule door hissed and began opening upwards.

She raised the blaster and stepped out of his range should he decide to lunge himself at her. On the edge of her view she saw Cal preparing himself to jump to her aid if the need arouse.

But Malicos remained where he was, looking fairly uncomfortable.

They looked at each other for a long second.

“So I didn’t just imagine that.” he said eventually. “It really is you.”

Hearing his voice threw her a little off. It was hoarse but evidently the years in isolation hadn’t done much to his crisp coruscanti accent.

“If you move fast or in any way strange, I will shoot you.”

The blaster felt wrong in her hand; like threatening a Nexu with a garden hoe.

His eyebrows narrowed. “That’s an odd way to greet somebody after five years.”

“Are you complying?”

He coughed. “Say, if I do attack you, would you prefer the stump or the arm I got in a sling?” He lifted them, indicating the choice to her.

Cere shook her head. She wouldn’t play along.

She approached him, remaining cautious although he seemed to be surprisingly civil. Or just in too much pain.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected. Yellow irises, hateful accusations and an immediate attempt to hurt her, maybe.

His bloodshot eyes still followed her, kept watching as she peeled of the patch from his skin. “Where are we headed?” he asked out of the blue.

She didn’t answer. She kept her hands busy with her task and was content to see that the wound looked much better already.

“Who else travels with Cal Kestis? Another batch of old jedi hidden somewhere?”

She applied a new patch.

“What did Kestis need that was in those ruins?”

She smoothed it out.

Malicos chuckled lightly, turning his head away as he apparently understood that she wouldn’t answer his questions.

“I can smell caf.” he said as Cere got up again. “…Could I have some?”

She gave it a thought and nodded. “That I can arrange.”

As she was about to close the capsule again he shifted forward in his chair, barely suppressing a groan. “I thought you were dead.” The bruises on his shoulders and face looked black in the weak light.

She stilled her hand above the control panel, trying to hold back the contempt that tried to crawl into her voice. “Well, I thought you were dead too, Master Taron. Though I can’t really say that this is a joyous reunion.”

Pressing the button, she turned around and headed for Cal and the ladder again.

In the living area they were met with two pairs of eyes looking at them, waiting for some news. “I changed the patch. He wants caf.” she said blankly. “His injuries are too severe to try anything at the moment.”

Greez turned to the cockpit again, uttering a scornful “Ha!” under his breath while Merrin studied Cere’s face with a strange mix of mistrust and worry.

“What do you make of him?” Cal asked in a low voice beside her. Cere was silent.

“I’m not sure.” She put a cup with the faded logo of the Kuat Drive Yards under the coffee machine output and pressed the option for a flat white. “I might administer something for the pain and see if we can spare another patch for his shoulder. Can’t hurt to keep him a little sedated as well.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know, like I said: I’m not sure.” The cup filled slowly and she turned to Cal. “…What do you think? What could you _sense_?”

“Well, his force essence seems vastly different from how it felt when I fought him.”

“Do you think he is hiding his intentions?”

Cal frowned. “No, not either… It just feels like… a snuffed out candle. It lacks the brightest aspects of other force users.” He shook his head. “But my force sense has never been strong enough to tell such things definitely.”

Cere looked down on the cup. “I guess, I’ll talk to him some more. Grab another bacta patch.”

Before heading down to the capsules again, she disappeared into her quarters with the cup in hand, emerging with seemingly nothing new.

Cal raised an inquiring eyebrow and she squeezed his shoulder. “A precaution. I’ll explain later.”

After opening the capsule again, Cere sat down in front of their prisoner and held the freshly brewed cup out to him. The blaster was still in her other hand.

“Can you hold it yourself? Shouldn’t strain your arm too much though.”

Malicos carefully used his left arm in the sling to grab the handle before bending down awkwardly and slurping at the rim.

Being a little too greedy, he cursed as the liquid dripped past his chin, landing on his chest. “Kriff, that’s hot.” He made a second attempt, slower this time.

Cere watched him as silence fell on the room. Only the soft hum of the engine next to them was filling the air with white noise. Cal had transformed himself into an unmoving shadow next to the ladder again, listening and ready to swoop in at any time.

After emptying it, Malicos sat down the cup in his lap, exhaling what must have been the deepest sigh of content she ever heard.

She remembered his addiction with the beverage; drinking down four to five cups a day hadn’t been unusual, going as far as carrying one with him to the CR-20 troop carriers of his units.

She still couldn’t believe it was him.

“So.” he began “Since you won’t tell me what your little party is up to, anything you want to ask me?”

“What are you doing on our ship?”

It seemed like he needed to think about her question for a moment too. “Wanted to sniff some off-world air again. Dathomir gets terribly bleak with time.” He grinned humourlessly. “…And meet the people around that boy who are foolish enough to try rebuilding the order. I would have never thought it could be someone of your calibre in their midst. - Would’ve bet on one or two more padawans, collectively shitting their pants.”

Cere nodded, not taking the bait he laid out for her. He was trying to rile her. Ironically, it was the swear word that tripped her up. It felt out of place. Malicos had hardly cursed – speech was the most direct expression of the mind. Vulgarities had no place in the vocabulary of a jedi. But who knew what else had changed in those years?

“Well, if you just wanted to catch a ride, you could have asked.”

“I’m sorry for forcing myself onto you and your crew. And I do thank you for the medical aid.” He smiled, exposing yellowish teeth.

The exchange stood in the room like misplaced and confused livestock.

Both parties were fully aware of the circumstances they were having this conversation under and that Malicos, in full possession of his powers, wanting “to catch a ride” could not have ended well.

Cere was done exchanging niceties.

She slowly clipped his saber from the back of her belt and held it in front of his face. “Do you want to say anything about this?” Her voice was calm. The deep accusation was unmistakably written on her face and surprisingly it whipped the smile from his.

“Well, what do you think it means?” He was watching her intently. His voice had dropped lower, the casual attitude was gone in a heartbeat.

“I wanted to give you the chance to speak for yourself, Master Taron, for old time’s sake.” The formal but amicable salutation slipped itself into her speech again without her wanting to.

He growled. “Placed in an escape pod and threatened by a blaster I am allowed to speak for myself? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I am listening to you, Taron, but I do not wish to understand you. I just want to assess how big of a threat you are to our journey.”

He slowly turned the empty cup in his lap and had the audacity to look almost offended for a second. “A threat you don’t need to understand…” He looked up. “What a perfect example of the hollow philosophy that led to our entire downfall.”

Cere sighed. “You were always good at circumventing the banta in the room. But given the circumstances, you need to give me a very good reason to not turn this ship around and bring you back to Dathomir.”

He kept silent, clearly appalled by that idea and licked his dry lips, then said: “...So you got whatever took you to that place.”

Cere blinked. Malicos ability to draw the right conclusions from scarce information had always been one of his skills most valued by the high council.

He seemingly interpreted her silence. He smiled again. “Well, congratulations.”

“What for?”

“For traveling there with a purpose and not getting stuck for… let’s say five years. Without any means of escape.”

This time, Cere kept silent, waiting for Malicos to elaborate.

He heaved himself up in a more sitting position. “I had a purpose there as well. Clearing the orbit of the last of Grievous’ clankers… I expected a lot more resistance than we actually encountered. But I presume that was part of a bigger scheme after all.” Malicos paused. “You know, to this day I…”

“Don’t do that.” Cere interrupted him. She shook her head as he looked at her, raising an eyebrow in a far too familiar gesture. “We are not two friends catching up in a cantina over some drink.”

“Harsh words, Master Junda.”

“Well, you did try to kill Cal.”

He apparently had caught himself again. “Speaking of…” is he anywhere nearby? Are we alone?”

She inclined her head. “Yes.”

“Oh, Cere.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “That would be foolish, wouldn’t it? I know that your tactical decisions have always been very well informed. Remember that EMP device you hid in…”

“Stop.”

He raised his arms to the best of his ability. “Very well… If he happens to be close, I want him to know that I apologise for my uncivilised behaviour early.” He began turning the cup in his lap again. “Those ruins do… weird things to your head if you stay in them for too long. And that little witch didn't leave me much of a choice.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Cere saw Cal shift his stance against the railing.

For all it was worth, Malicos last words seemed to carry some truth.

“As of now, you aren’t terribly convincing.” she said nonetheless.

“At what, Master Junda? Being a crippled prisoner? Being apologetic? Or being a _jedi_?”

“You _bled_ your crystals, Taron! – That doesn’t happen just because you’re having… a _bad day_.” A voice in the back of Cere’s head noticed calmly, that he had finally managed to agitate her. Her hand tightened around Malicos’s saber in a vice like grip. “Am I mistaken to believe that you…”

“It made me _powerful_.” She saw the fingers of his left hand close themselves into fists on the chair. “I adapted to my surroundings… It was there… Right in front of me and instead of dying, like all the other fools did, I _seized_ it.”

Cere didn’t find the right words to throw back at him. It was a way of the dark side to present its path as the only option left. How could she reason with him if she could guess the struggle he went through? If she saw what was done to her and others?

Instead she just trembled with anger.

_No._

No, that wasn’t right. He had stopped fighting, gave in. He _chose_ this.

“Don’t blame the jedi for the path you have gone on.” She struggled to keep her voice calm.

“The jedi!” Malicos leant forward, wincing and uttering a joyless laugh which turned into a chopped up cough. “There is nothing _left_ I could blame! And isn’t that the biggest joke of all? Tell me, Cere, because I really wish to know: What happened to the Republic?”

She inhaled slowly, calming herself again.

Malicos had been level-headed and balanced once. The fact, that it did not need the empire and its inquisitors to break a jedi master, turn him and make him everything he once stood against, - it hit her harder than she would have thought possible.

Despite his injuries and his desolate state, Cere saw the Dark Side grinning through his words.

Having realised that, their talk did not serve any purpose longer.

She got up. “...I think we are done here.”

His head snapped up and she raised the blaster again in response to the sudden movement.

“Done?” he asked.

She did not answer but turned to the console at the door.

He growled.

“I don't think you understand in the _slightest,_ what you so accusingly wish me to admit to.”

“I do have an idea.”

_Better than you deserve to know, even._

Malicos forearm with the bandage came down on the wall next to him with a bang. The startling loud noise reverberated in the room as he stared her down.

Cal made a step into her direction again.

She raised her hand, indicating him to stay away.

The former jedi’s face had distorted into a furious grimace.

“Do you?” he asked, “Do you really? I…”

He clearly wanted to say more, but frowned suddenly and sacked back into the seat. He blinked his eyes a few times. And looked down on the cup again. Something seemed to dawn on him. “You… drugged me.”

“It’s sweetblossom. You’ll be fine.”

He watched somewhat alarmed as she took the cup from his hand and pulled the second bacta patch from her vest pocket.

“It will help with the pain as well.” she said. The blue eyes stared at her accusingly as their member was still not able to find any words. The drug had set in swiftly. She pushed the make-shift sling out of the way and pressed the patch to his shoulder until the gel-like glue had sealed it to his skin.

“…I didn’t come here to hurt any of you.” His speech was slightly slurred, voice hoarse. He still looked at her. “Believe me.”

Cere stepped back, wiped her hands on her trouser legs and pressed the button on the control panel. The capsule closed before its unmoving inmate.

“Let’s go.” she said into the direction of Cal.

Her need to get out of the dark corridor, away from the escape pod almost made her nauseous.

Silently, they ascended back into the engine room.

Before the young man could ask, - and she saw the question burning in his mouth - she spoke up, stopping before his make-shift bed. “After my escape from Nur, I had some dark days…” She pulled a little vial with a thick white fluid from her pocket and showed it to him. “This… sweetblossom helped me get through a couple of hours where I’d rather not felt anything at all.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s fine. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. A lot of the workers on Bracca used it as well.”

She still saw the worry in his eyes and something that edged on hurt. “It helped. But it made me numb to everything else as well. But we don’t have any other narcotics on board.”

“You could have just told me, you know? That you were going to use it.”

“No.” She put the vial away again. “Giving it to someone without their consent? That’s wrong. But that was my decision and I need to carry that myself. Malicos won’t do anything until we arrived on Bogano… If he hurt anyone on this ship, I would have not been able to forgive myself.”

The cold, tight feeling remained in her stomach even as Cal nodded. He understood.

He pulled her close into an embrace and she hugged him back tightly, but couldn’t shake the look the fallen jedi master had given her as he had realised what she had done.

Drugging his favourite drink.

A plot worthy of a much more sinister mind than a jedi should ever have.

_Dark times indeed._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back with this. I thank you all for your feedback up to this point!  
> I re-worked the whole text up to chapter 5 actually, because I was not quiet satisfied with it - hence the delay of two months. Thx for sticking around and have fun with this chapter.  
> xxx

Taron floated in and out of consciousness.

The sweetblossom had made the idea of moving a foreign and strange concept he did not fully grasp at the moment but admired the thought of; He felt the ship move around the capsule and the capsule with it. In a strange way, it was comforting. It felt like nothing really would be able to get to him in this small, in itself sealed cocoon.

It was the kind of security children felt in the womb of their mother and later inevitably tried to reproduce in the embrace of their lovers if they were fortunate enough to have one.

Not that he even remembered the face of his mother, let alone got romantically involved with anyone in the almost 50 years of his existence.

The jedi code had been without fault for him.

_Fool._

Drifting in the dark behind his eyelids, his thoughts jumped and propelled between the past and present; the ship, its destination, Cal Kestis and Cere Junda.

The hawk-like woman had looked even sterner than the last time he had seen her.

It must have been on Coruscant. At a time when the war had already left harsh lines on their faces.

Maybe she had been present at his last debriefing. Maybe he had seen her in the temple gardens.

He faintly remembered low guitar music mixed with wind chimes and the feeling of a friendly conversation.

Much unlike the one they just had.

_They don’t trust you._

That was a given, why should they?

_You gambled away your opportunities. When you saw the boy you got too excited, you rushed in, gave everything away._

Not true.

_You’re desperate because you know, stuck on that planet, as you were and probably will be again in a few hours, your powers are useless. You are useless. Just an old outcast terrorizing a bunch of Zabraks._

Blinking up, he saw the emergency light above him flicker like a bad omen. The friendly feeling ebbed away like water disappearing into the ground as his head cleared up. Gradually, the cocoon looked more and more like a prison again.

He realised that he had lost every sense of time and space, but feeling for the injury on his chest he was pleased to find it nearly completely healed under the patch.

_Unwise, Cere._

It meant that she still thought and acted like a jedi, despite putting drugs in his coffee.

_Maybe she could be fooled like a jedi too._

He gritted his teeth, suppressing a groan. Even though his wounds were no longer life-threatening, he still felt like somebody had subjected him to the hooves of an upset banta herde.

Taron extended his arms to both sides, hitting the walls of the capsule before he could fully stretch them and shook his head like a wet dog.

He was painfully reminded of the absence of his right hand. The anger flaring up in his chest snuffed out the quiet voice that had liked the idea of hearing that serene guitar music once again.

An afterimage of peace imprinted on his soul that no amount of time could erase.

Lost.

_Gone._

Long gone.

He clenched his left hand into a fist.

The capsule went dark around him as a well-directed hit took out the emergency light above his head.

The empire had arrived on Bogano.

Their ships descended on the grassy plains, storm troopers pouring down from the ramps like white ants.

Unlike the Mantis, they had no reason to hide from anyone, being able to take up camp in broad view, - undoubtedly the apex predator of every system they decided to beset.

Cal watched them release their probe droids for a perimeter scan and how armed patrols set out in every direction from their landing place. BD-1 informed him from his back, that the ships in front of him were the successors of the widely used LAAT/i, produced by _Rothana Heavy Engineering_ and able to transport up to 100 men.

“Kriff.” he murmured.

“They know we are here.” Cere said grimly beside him, setting a pair of binoculars done.

They both laid in hiding not far from where Greez had manoeuvred the Mantis into one of the many sink holes of the planet.

“This planet is of zero strategic interest for the empire. They _must_ have followed us. Which means…”

“…that Trilla is most likely here too.” Cal finished Cere’s thought grimly.

They exchanged a look of pain, the trauma of the former padawan’s fall running so much deeper than words could express.

Cere led herself slide down the rock they had been laying on and leant heavily against it, the whole movement a single long sigh.

Cal caught up to her quietly.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” She said after a moment, picking a bit of moss from the stone beside her. “It will take them less than a day to discover our position.”

“I’ll be faster.” He pushed himself off the rock and prayed he sounded as confident as he would have liked to be.

“This complicates everything.” Cere continued to pluck the resilient plant off, forming it into a tight ball in her hands. “I had hoped we could leave Malicos here.”

Cal’s eyebrows shot up his face. “Oh.”

Then he considered it, tracing Cere’s train of thought. “…He’ll survive. But we won’t endanger anybody else if he remains exiled here.”

“Yes.”

It seemed cruel. But it was still a lot more than the man deserved.

“But isn’t this your Master’s planet? His… retreat?”

She slowly rolled the green ball between her palms. “It was. But little of him remains here. Only memories. And getting attached to a place of the past would be foolish, don’t you think?”

He agreed.

Cere looked down at the work of her hands. “…And who knows.” she added, “Maybe it will be somehow therapeutic for Malicos. If he manages to evade the empire.”

Cal crossed his arms before his chest. “They will want to follow _us_ anyway.”

The moss ball got flicked into the ravine next to them.

“We’ll have to do it quickly once we make our escape. Dispose of the capsule once we leave the orbit.”

They both pondered darkly about the feat that would be necessary to get the holocron past the empire’s forces, leave planet successfully - most likely under heavy fire - and manage to drop of an escape pod with a fallen jedi before jumping into hyperspace. All with the Second Sister on their heels.

_Squeezing a krayt dragon through a needle eye would be easier._

Cal felt something pushing on his mind out of the veil on the force around him. It was a creeping sense of doom. - He had had this feeling before but had always been able to will it away and fill himself with confidence again in the face of coming battles.

After Dathomir and Ilum, this last step should not feel as difficult as it seemed to be. He knew the darkness he was fighting, knew the one in himself and around him and still he couldn’t help but wonder if this was as far as they were going to get.

He didn’t want to leave his friends behind with Malicos, didn’t want to draw the attention of the empire to the holocron, didn’t want to fight Trilla again.

However the force whispered to him that he would have to do all three to proceed forward.

The two additional lightsabers hung heavy on the back of his belt.

He unclipped one and extended it to Cere.

“In case he tries to escape, …I think you should have this.”

The woman seemed to think for a second before shaking her head. “No.” she said, “He can’t use anything against me that I don’t have. The safest place for his weapons is with you.”

Cal nodded. He sensed that he needed to go. The force was tugging at the metaphorical sleeve of his mind, urging him to move his feet.

He still opened his mouth one last time, weighing the saber in his hand. Bogano's light reflected coldly on the ornaments edged into its outside.

“...How _well_ did you know him?” he asked.

Cere huffed, half in amusement, half mournfully. “What do you want to know? I’m not hiding yet another former acquaintance turned sith from you.”

“I was not trying to imply that.”

He wasn't. But he felt like he maybe _should_ know. To understand the exchange between Cere and the former jedi better, having sensed the great contempt and anger in Cere and whatever turmoil was brewing inside the fallen master.

“I know.” She shook her head. “I just hope that you trust me.” Her jaw tightened.

“...You don't have to tell me.” Her pain had reached him through the force.

“…He was somebody I admired for a long time. Very confident. Rooted.” Cere said nonetheless. “...A good teacher of different lightsaber forms to many padawans too. Jar'Kai predominantly, as you might have noticed. We were dispatched on one mission together. Before the war.” She made a face, a bitter and melancholic expression manifesting in the wrinkles around her eyes. “...The only thing that hasn't changed about him is his... sometimes very _condescending_ nature.”

“So he always was a bit of a jerk?”

Cere gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Kind of. ”

Cal smirked. “Glad I beat him, then.”

The faint wiry noise and the subsequent radio chatter of a probe drone became audible in the distance. They both looked at each other, agreeing that it was time to part.

“May the force be with you, Cal.”

“With you too, Cere.”

The young man turned and climbed the rock up again as Cere headed back to the ship in the hiding shadow of the ravine.

The woman couldn't deny a strange feeling creeping up the back of her neck as she looked back and watched Cal disappear from her line of sight. The feat he was about to take on would have been considered enormous for any jedi. And with what was at stake, only a master would have been tasked with completing this quest.

They did not have the luxury of that choice anymore.

She trusted Cal. The thing that bothered her most, was having to see him take off on his own time and time again.

Deep in thought, Cere ducked her head under some vines. The Mantis came into view again as she rounded the next corner.

That was when she heard the shouting.

Merrin had hovered around the door of the space craft for some time before actually daring to step outside. It wasn't that she was afraid; Her home planet had just taught her, to always proceed with caution in new surroundings – _especially_ if they looked inconspicuous.

The green grass covering the ground might as well be poisonous, or give away under her feet and let her be eaten by an enormous predator. _Or_ the little fuzzy mammals hopping around might be absolutely deadly when in groups _or_...

She shook the thought while making the last step down from the ramp.

The first thing she noticed, was that the sun light didn't burn through the hair on her scalp anymore as she took in her surroundings. The air smelled fresh, much like it had just rained even though there was no cloud in sight.

The sight of the unfamiliar, flourishing nature made her chest clench.

She closed he eyes.

_Sisters, forgive me._

Deep down, Merrin could not fight the thought of having abandoned the meagre remains of her family. Many nightsisters had eventually left Dathomir in pursuit of different things; May it have been on a mission, or in search for knowledge.

But could you really leave if there was nothing remaining behind? Nothing you could possibly return to?

Her own departure only felt like an escape, like she was out of her depth to try leaving everything behind for quite literally greener pastures.

 _Yes, survivors travel together._ Cal's voice echoed in her head.

His blue eyes unnerved her for a couple of reasons, the biggest being how grateful she felt for the compassion she saw in them.

They looked at her like he very clearly understood her inner struggle, even when he went past her to patch up a man that tried to kill both of them.

She looked around, pondering that it was more than a little ironic how the only thing feeling faintly familiar, was the presence of Taron Malicos in the Mantis's bowels.

His aura was dull but still very much as brutal and unkind as she had come to know it.

And for some reason it was moving.

Merrin stopped her steps, suddenly hyper-alert of everything going on inside the ship.

As she turned, she believed to hear a faint noise through the hull. A thud. Then another. The following silence felt thick with bad premonitions.

Green ichor materialised inside her palms as she jumped back into the steel door frame, turning from side to side in the relative darkness. Malicos presence seemed to have evaporated, blended with the interior.

Greez was nowhere to be seen and her stomach sunk thinking of the alternatives.

She should have never left the ship – neither should have the woman _nor_ Cal!

Not before having dealt with the fallen jedi. They had been practically asking for something like this.

“ _He escaped!_ ”

Merrin's head shot around as she heard Greez' voice somewhere from the back only to see a shadow moving out of the dimness towards her. Quickly. _Very_ quickly.

She saw the white in his eyes before barely managing to bring her arms up in front of her chest.

Then she was flying backwards out of the doorway, Malicos shoulder pressing the air from her lungs as he had launched himself full-front at her.

The blue sky sailed past her and the ground, although covered in grass made for a very hard landing, especially with the full-grown man using her to soften his own fall.

One of his boots landed on her left wrist, a knee on her stomach and the other hand at her right wrist.

Merrin looked up into his bruised and distorted face, gasping for air. For a moment, she was able to see the whole insanity and darkness of Kujet's tomb behind his eyes, everything his years on the planet had wrecked upon his soul with his permission.

For a moment, she actually stopped fighting against his grip, dazed by the fall and paralysed with fear.

_He will kill me._

“Sister Merrin.”, he drawled, “what a nice suprise.”

Malicos raised his arm only to realise himself, that he did not have a second hand to inflict damage on her with. He growled, irritation darting over his features.

Merrin managed to draw in a pained breath and used it to shout at the top of her lungs. “ _Cere!_ ”

He looked around, alarmed and she tried to gather energy in her hands again. He immediately increased his pressure to her joints. “Try to hit me with your magick and I'll _snap_ your wrists!”

She cried out in frustration, attempting to head-butt and to wiggle out beneath him.

Several blaster shots flew past them, out of the direction of the nearby ravine and Malicos cursed. He lifted his left hand from her wrist and she snarled, immediately aiming her freed hand at his face.

The ichor shot missed him by a mere inch as he bent to the side, simultaneously raising his left arm and clenching his fist.

He did not miss. His knuckles bore deep into the soft spot in the middle of her ribcage and her lungs were empty again for the second time in the last minute.

Malicos rolled off of her to the side and forcefully pulled her up with him, off the ground, turning her into the direction of a quickly approaching Cere.

“Back off!” he roared, breathing heavily.

Merrin wheezed. He had intentionally aimed for her solar plexus. Her diaphragm convulsed painfully.

The forearm coming down like a bar around her throat didn't help either.

The woman slowed down, about 15 meters away from them, blaster at the ready. “Let her go!”

“Where are my weapons, Cere?”

Cere did not answer.

Malicos tried the best he could to hide his tall frame behind the smaller nightsister. “...Look, we both know that we can stand here for a couple more minutes until either you manage to hit me or this little witch manages to escape...”

“I'm comfortable with either of those options.” The woman said cooly.

“ _Or_ I could just kill her right _now_ , if you make one more step into my direction!”

Cere stopped as Malicos tightened his grip on Merrin's neck as a demonstration, almost lifting her up.

“Either way...” he continued to shout “that might all be time your little green friend might not have! So lower the blaster and tell me where my lightsabers are!”

Despair washed over Cere's face.

Merrin felt Malicos' breath right next to the shell of her ear.” Terrific new friends you have there.” he murmured. “ Let's test if they truly trust you, shall we?”

“Your weapons are no longer on the ship.” Cere said. “If you truly meant no harm to us, like you said, you would just let her _go_!”

Merrin slowly lifted her hand in a – what she hoped – inconspicuous way in front of her thigh, out of Malicos view. She extended three fingers, praying Cere would notice.

The fallen jedi laughed. “Cere, you know little about Dathomir's natives. Their lot is _very_ resentful. - Your travel companion here is dying to rip my intestines out after what Cal Kestis told her. Let's hope for you guys, that you never get on her wrong side.”

Merrin swallowed hard against his grip. _Your head on a stick would be a truly nice trophy!_

Cere's eyes darted down to her hand for a split-second as Merrin changed her gesture to two fingers.

“Is Greez alive, Taron?” she asked.

“You can find out as soon as you drop the blaster.”

_One._

_Zero._

Merrin closed her eyes, giving herself away to the ancient forces the nightsisters worshipped to guide her body through the space between spaces. Her head was filled with nothing but murderous intent; a big red cloud ordering her to end his life _here and now_.

She vanished into green mist, out of Malicos head-lock, leaving him without cover.

Cere fired twice.

Re-appearing behind Malicos, a ball of deadly energy in hand, she saw his broad back in front of her; unguarded and ready for her to strike.

She realised her mistake too late.

He knew her to well.

He had wasted no time and jumped forward, avoiding both the ichor and one of the blaster shots. The second grazed his shoulder, ending his roll in an ungraceful tumble.

Merrin screamed as the energetic particles of the first shot scorched the robes on her upper arm, sending her into the grass again.

“Stop!” she heard Cere exclaim. Lifting her head, she saw Malicos a few meters away, straightening himself and slowly moving sideways, away from the Mantis and the two women. The graze at his shoulder had already transformed into an angry blister.

Cere was still pointing her blaster at him, finger at the trigger.

“Shoot him already!” Merrin shouted.

Malicos said something but the words were too quiet for her to understand. Then he started walking backwards cautiously, eyeing Cere before turning and running into the direction of the ravine, all while Cere still had him at gun-point, turning with his movement.

The woman eventually lowered her weapon as Malicos left both of their view.

Her face was a mask of stone.

She holstered the blaster as Merrin got to her feet again, gritting her teeth in pain. “You let him _go_? _You let him go?!_ ”

Her wrath had only grown in the last few seconds; words weren't enough to express it and she was one stunned moment away from attacking Cere.

The older woman seemingly had her own thoughts on the situation. Her eyes flashed angrily at Merrin while hurrying past her to the Mantis. “That was the most stupid thing I have ever seen! _Why_ would you teleport into my line of fire?!”

“Because I needed to kill him!”

“ _I_ had a blaster pointed at him!”

“Which you did not _use_ , jedi!”

They both came face to face at the door as Cere shot around and Merrin witnessed something dark and unhinged flare up behind her face. She noticed that the woman had her hand on the grip of her weapon again. “Help me find Greez,” she said in a low, controlled voice “or don't do anything at all.”

Merrin rubbed over the burnt flesh of her arm, glaring daggers at Cere's back but followed her inside the ship.

“Greez?” Cere called out into the control room.

“Back here.” The Latero emerged from the hallway to the back of the ship. He was limping and rubbing his forehead with a pained expression.

“Greez!” There was a great deal of relief in Cere's voice as she rushed to his side. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride.” the Latero exclaimed, slumping down on the floor next to the kitchen area.

“What happened?” Merrin asked coldly. She remained next to the door, crossing her arms before her chest.

Greez looked off to the side. “Look, the asshole, he... he fooled me, okay?”

Merrin's nostrils flared and Cere shot her a warning glance.

“He destroyed the light in the capsule.” Greez continued reluctantly “I heard some noises from the lower deck, grabbed a blaster and headed down there to investigate since you all were gone! And his pod was empty.” He made a helpless gesture with two of his hands. “I opened it and the next thing I know, a boot hits me in the face! The kriffing bastard had clamped himself to the ceiling like a goddamn spider and...Hey, where are you going?”

Merrin had turned on her heels with a shout of frustration. “Idiots!” she called out. “You are the order of _idiots_!”

Cere followed her out on the ramp again, Greez was a few steps behind. “What is she doing?” he asked a second time, sounding alarmed.

“What I should have done back on Dathomir already.” She gave them both a furious look. “Find and kill Malicos. Since that is clearly not a responsibility you can be _trusted_ with.”

The corner of Cere's mouth twitched in annoyance. “You'll endanger Cal. Draw even more attention to our position. If they spot you, they'll be alerted and on the look-out.”

“Malicos will try to get his lightsabers back and he is a lot of things, but he's not dumb! _You_ are the one endangering your friend by letting him get away!”

Cere opened and closed her mouth again, seemingly speechless. Greez lifted one of his hands. “If we could calm down for a second here...”

“I don't owe you an explanation.” Cere did not pay attention to the Latero. “I won't be carrying out your personal vendetta.”

“And you don't have to!” Merrin jumped down from the ramp. “But you won't stand in my way, jedi.”

Cere watched her heading for the ravine, face still petrified.

“This is all my fault.” Greez sat down heavily in the door way, shaking his head.

“No...” The voice of the woman standing above him was thick with bitterness. “This is on both of us.”

Malicos words turned in her head in an endless, irritating loop.

_Your pilot is alive. But please, go ahead and shoot me. Like the animal you think I am._

He had looked at her like he was fully expecting her to pull the trigger and she had _known._ There was no bluff behind his words. And she had not been able to do the most logical thing, derailed by her own sentiments.

Merrin was right.

She would not make the same mistake twice though.

She reached for her com, hailing Cal.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you with me? Thanks for reading so much. If you liked it (or disliked it - I appreciate criticism as well) consider leaving me a comment. I'll thrive on feedback and I have to admit, more often than not, it is what keeps me writing.  
> May the force be with you. Especially in 2020 while living in this galaxy.


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